The Greek's Pregnant Bride

‘I didn’t mean to imply that you were spoilt. I appreciate the Mondelli name has been a mixed blessing for you.’

‘And the Markos name?’ she said, glad to be able to turn the conversation onto him. ‘Has that been a mixed blessing for you?’

He raised a shoulder. ‘The Markos name is nothing special. It doesn’t stand for anything.’

‘Yes, it does. It stands for hard work, determination and guts.’

‘Guts?’

‘Rocco told me you got into Columbia on a scholarship. That alone tells me how hard you’ve had to work to get where you are.’

‘We all have our crosses to bear, whatever background we’re born into,’ he said quietly. He tapped on the dividing window. Amidst a hail of tooting horns, the car came to a stop. ‘We will walk from here.’

* * *

hoping for. Set off the beaten track, its marble tables with checked paper table-cloths were crammed inside and out, every one of them taken. Inside, a man played an accordion, the

belly she’d ever seen ambled over to them, his arms outstretched. In a flurry of

doesn’t speak any English

as she was wrenched from Christian’s hold and yanked into Mikolaj’s embrace, which

until he was certain she was sitting comfortably—although how comfortable anyone could be when crammed like a sardine was

his long legs brushed against hers. She waited for him to move them but realised there was literally nowhere

to ignore the heat brushing up her legs. ‘This place

raised his eyebrows.

exactly how I imagined a Greek restaurant to be. You can feel the energy—you don’t get that

he’d been up to that point. Although unfailingly polite, a barrier had been put up. Was it being here, in his home city, that had caused its construction? Or had she been so wrapped up in

this place apart from the food?’

tell me you

This is all

busy?’ It was a Monday evening, hardly the busiest night of